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#boxerverse
wxnheart · 9 months
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
On today's episode of "My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks Horny Ass Questions", we're taking a thirsty ass look at boxer!Miguel thanks to a conversation that was had about what we now dub the Boxerverse. Because of reasons.
sequel/prequel
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Boxer!Miguel who floats like a butterfly but stings like a bee. He's good at keeping up the gruff and stoic demeanor in the ring. Outside, he's a giant armored teddy bear. Especially where you're concerned.
Boxer!Miguel who considers you his personal good luck charm. Since getting together with him, he's made you part of his pre-match ritual.
Said ritual is usually done away from prying eyes. Just you two, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, being in the moment, and doing some synchronized breathing exercises to release anxious energy. Especially yours. Kinda makes his heart flutter the way you fret over him before every match. A kiss on your forehead and he's off.
Boxer!Miguel who always gets that burst of energy every time he hears you cheering from the sidelines. He tried and failed to convince you to tone it down because you once cheered so loudly that you lost your voice after one match.
It's endearing the way you worry about him after every match, too. Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. The bruising will go away before you even know it.
Boxer!Miguel who loves your hand-care routine. Yeah, he takes care of his hands well enough but you take the extra step. An ice pack is all well and good but a nice hand massage with some oat, honey, and milk-scented body butter is absolutely excellent.
Boxer!Miguel who's amused because no matter how many times he's taught you, you still struggle with wrapping his hands. Yeah, you're cute when you furrow your brow in concentration.
Boxer!Miguel who'd train relentlessly if you didn't stop him. Well, he did train relentlessly (which really helped him to expend all that anxious energy) before you met him but he knows he's playing a losing game when you argue him down about taking a break. Sure thing, boss.
Boxer!Miguel who loves to feel the expanse of skin under his calloused knuckles as he affectionately runs them over your cheek. You were always awed by the power of his punches but he never ceased to amaze you with the gentleness of his touch. No wonder you loved his hands so damn much.
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nekomacheercaptain · 1 year
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I joined my cousin to her son’s first boxing lesson, just so that he can try it out, and PLEASE i miss boxing and kickboxing so much
BUT
I couldn’t help but imagine certain one piece characters as boxers
Like imagine Kid and Killer being absolutely beefed up martial artists???? THEY WOULD LOOK SO FUCKING GOOD PLEASE Kid would wear like a hairband, making his hair all slicked back and he’d be so hot 🧎‍♀️ also KILLER????? GOD he’d look amazing with his ponytail swinging around as he moved, bangs covering his eyes so you didn’t think he’d see anything. But that man would be an absolute beast, I’m sure he’d be the instructor. I would sure follow his commands 🫡
And LUFFY???? I’m sure he’d be so good at the sport, he’s so agile and fast, he’d fuck up all his opponents. He’s also have lots of scars because he’s so reckless, and god he would look gorgeous.
Now I need a one piece boxerverse 🧍‍♀️ they would all look gorgeous while sparring, sweat dripping off their bodies while grunting and groaning as they landed their hits
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introloves · 2 years
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boxer! bokuto + masochist! reader + mentions of pain + breath play + choking + strength kink + manhandling + size kink + petnames (sweet girl, princess) + creampie + messy sex + teasing + u get fucked with just the tip 4 a bit + squirting + intense female orgasm + mating press + tears + overstimulation + fluff at the end + f! reader
— part of my boxerverse! bo: one shot no. 1 one shot no. 2
— word count; approx 2.5k
bokuto is no stranger to inflicting pain. its what he's supposed to do. he gets paid good fucking money for every man he drops in the ring, but now you're laying soft and pretty beneath him. your legs parted and resting over his thighs while you gaze up at him.
the juxtaposition of these two mindsets has him dizzy, so used to coming at an opponent with nothing but the intention to hurt, it truly takes some getting used to feeling your warmth and near fragile body against calloused palms. softly kneading everywhere he can, like he's trying to remember how to hold you.
you've never had a problem with it though, trying to convince him that its okay- you can take it, its fine. but bokuto thinks differently, only sees you in the light of where you're the person he takes care of, who likes being doted on and loved by him.
and now you're enticing him, thighs squeezing together while he looks at your lidded eyes- begging him with no words to just please please fuck you already.
its just that he's pretty like this, adrenaline still lingering in his body from the fight he just had; coming out victorious much to no one's surprise- and you try to tell him that the power he exudes; seeing him be so competent and strong sends licks of pure heat down your core, but the words that come don't convince him.
thinks that maybe its better if the two of you wait before messing around, knowing that he's still feeding off the spikes of hormones from earlier, doesn't know if he'd be all too good at regulating his strength. he supposes its said with a heavy guilt, knowing what you want and what he does as well- quietly trying to calm the nagging voice in his head to take you how you want it, to relent and show you how strong he is- but he's been telling you with a short smile to wait just a bit more.
at least that's what he told you earlier, fresh out of the ring and the ache of body shots was still there... when there was space between your bodies.
there's second thoughts running rampant in his head while that space started decreasing and decreasing. now you're laid back, spread open for him- and still whining out his name.
he really was doomed from the start.
seconds string out to long minutes while he roams his rough palms up your thighs, playing with the hem of your shorts every chance he gets, listening with a thumping heart and throbbing cock to sweet whines and whimpers.
"i told you." bokuto mumbles, no longer looking at your face, just glancing at the apex between your thighs, wondering what he'd see if he pulled your tight black shorts to the side.
“to be patient- i could really hurt you, y'know.”
the words he says sound thoughtful. full of actual consequence, and a tinge of promise that seers ardent need in his gut because the second he mentions potentially hurting you- your eyes flutter shut and he swears he can see the patch of dark wetness against your cunt grow even more.
"yeah?" you whimper, looking like sin- bottom lip hitched between your teeth. "i want you to."
words are said so sweetly despite what you imply and ask for, pitched high in need.
you catch the tensing of his abdominal muscles and just barely move your sight to see his cock jump. giggling like you've won at that brazen show of need for you, and despite anything he could ever say in denial, you have.
he doesn't say anything when strong hands that haven't stopped their trail upwards cup the softness and fat from the bottom parts of your thighs- hauling with no real fineness to prop you close, settling your ass right atop his cock while you stay pretty and laid back.
"my sweet girl. my masochist baby." bokuto breathes, starting the near nightly routine of riding you of clothes, thick fingers hooking and prying away anything keeping you from his gaze and naked touch.
you couldn't stop the happy little smiles gracing your lips while he did. face heating with the intensity he looks at you with- hissing in a sharp breath when you're laid bare and so close he can almost feel the heat of your cunt against his tummy; own excitement despite the way he put this off manifesting with a sudden swell and contraction of his cock to your image, tip sticky and dripping for you like you were him.
there was no way he'd leave you wanting now that the two of you were pressed skin to skin, curling his body over yours; so big and heavy that the inches he hovered above you, biceps curling with his weight resting against his arms- hands planted wide and thick beside your head. dipping into the bed with it, sucks the air straight from your lungs just from the proximity, like your body knew someone so strong and capable was centimeters from crush you.
he was always the best of both worlds- rounded out with love and happiness, giggles and everything that makes you laugh, but now there's a sharper edge to him. eyes sharp and lidded, looking down at you like you're about to be devoured; all the while a simple shift of his hips lay his heavy cock along your cunt.
and he supposes its teasing, a direct affront to the way he always gives you what you want and ask for- teasing you with the weight of his drooling dick. shifting once; twice to split your cunt open around him, openly weeping along his swollen cock, all because he thinks a little discipline is due in order to put you right back in place.
"i know you want it to hurt." bokuto croons, one heavy palm moving from its anchor on the bed to the middle of your chest- slowly palming up so thick and hardened fingers press delicately onto either side of your neck.
the reaction you give is just so sweet. hips arching up to split open even more for his cock; a hand already shaky with anticipation reaching around the thickness of his wrist to press down- flustered at the laugh he gives at your eagerness.
"i like it when you listen." is all he responds with, guilty in his own right with gluttony. he loves the wiggling, the want- the all burning lust for him he can see in yours.
another movement of his big body pulls your attention to his flexing stomach, angling himself with muscle memory so only the swollen and mushroomed- drooling cockhead presses into your wanting hole and he knows its all too much; not getting what you want from him directly challenges you- wiggling your hips with no result because he slides the fat of his palm directly onto your throat.
it stops any and all movement on your end- openly gasping, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sliver of his strength he gives you.
"bo." you cry, gasping with how slow he's being- tummy dropping while his cock inches inside you with an agonizing carefulness you're not used to and he wont even let you move an inch to wiggle more of his cock inside you, wanting more than just the swollen head absolutely teasing your opening.
"yeah, i know sweets." he grunts, unable to stop a pump in- quickly pulling out with a near audible pop of the swollen ridge, correcting his mistake. groaning with how your cunt clenched impossibly tight around the length he gave you; trying hard to keep him inside.
youre too cloudy and hazy to see the shiver wracking his body, too strung up to realize the mean thought starting up in his head with the way your pussy responded to just the tip of his cock- taking a shallow breath before rolling his hips up into you, shoving his tip inside, beginning a mean and cruel fucking of your desperate cunt, grunting heard only above the lewd wet popping sounds.
"isnt it mean?
he questions like you can respond, all the while he moves his hips in small little thrusts- having you cream all over the tip before pushing inside; a ring of your arousal sitting right over the swollen base, salivating at the sight of your cunt swollen and messy with pure want. he remembers he asked you a question amidst it all, giving you a quick squeeze right around your neck to bring you back to him.
your thighs squeeze hard, trembling around the thickness of his hips while he rocks shallowly, hands shaky in their move to grab at the thick arm still pinning you down, nails digging into the pale skin there in a fervor.
the fact that you had asked for this- for him to give in a little and hurt you just because you knew he could, blinking back the stars forming along your vision, lower lip trembling before your cunt clenches so tight he thinks you might hurt yourself in straining.
it does something to see your desperateness come to a halt with a simple tap of fingers along the slowly weakening grip you had on his arm and he lets off immediately, reaching back down to plant his lips over your gasping mouth- gone is the intimidation, the delicious fear he strung throughout your body with just a well placed palm.
he'd give in now.
reaching for your near limp hands- he tangles his own thick ones between the spaces of yours, bringing them up to lay above your head, letting you arch and push up towards his body, swallowing the combined intakes of air and keening moans you give him.
the first well placed slam of hips drives you delirious- wondering if you really could take the force of corded muscle bouncing your hips up, turning your head to the side to breathe.
"you wanted this." he reminds you between grunts- his own voice bouncing just a little, interrupted by the impact of his hips slamming down on yours.
a simple cough and sweet little nod is what he gets in response, lower body contracting in preparation for an orgasm barrelling straight through you. already wetting the fat part of his thighs, it's all his big cock squeezes out, strings of it staying in place connecting the two of you.
he thinks you look pretty like this- thinks you could take more of the hard pistoning; letting your hands fall limp above your head before reaching down, curling his back to sweep your equally limp thighs on top his arms. easily bending you- twisting your body down into the bed and rendering you near immobile, letting him take you however he wanted, eyes rolling back with the squeeze.
"fuck- fuck!" you squeal, barely coherent and even lucid- letting him have you, letting his cock bully an orgasm from your battered cunt, lower half picked up and off the bed while his biceps curl and pinch your legs in the grasp he has on you.
it was all he wanted, seeing you lose yourself- hissing in tandem at you clenching. trying to buck your hips, trying to control yourself while you wiggle and flinch, and drool with how good his cock is. how he keeps you up off the bed, legs kicking from their perch over his arms- frantically reaching to grab onto something and try to let him know you���re cumming.
but you feel like your head is stuffed with cotton, only able to stutter in a gasp before your body tenses incredibly tight- constricting down while your hungry and swollen pussy throbs, pulses around his cock until it all comes to a halt. head thrown back into the bed, digging so hard there’s an imprint of where it rests; marking the space.
he drinks it in, watching with widening eyes your pretty, scrunched face before the familiar splash of cum splatters down over his stomach. breath hitching in the tremors that follow every squeeze, clit hard and twitching so enticing, clutching you harder to keep himself from reaching down and playing with it, knowing your thrashing body is too weak to take anything other than his fat fucking cock splitting you open while all your cunt wants to do is push him out in vice like clamping.
shuddered breaths laced with high whines sound out while the last pathetic spurts of cum from your still contracting cunt try to wring him dry- dizzy with how pretty you came, how messy he is, how much cum is painting his thighs and tummy.
“it’s okay-“ bokuto murmurs, dipping to press the tip of his nose along your heated cheek, giving you seconds before the taught chord settled deep in his tummy is too much, until the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him to give it to you- to cream your already fucked out pussy with what’s waiting in heavy and plump balls.
“my sweet baby, it’s okay.”
it’s the last soothing thing he gives, peeling himself off of you to sit up straight- twisting his arms out of the bend of your leg and placing his palms there instead, taking notice your flinching body because the drag of his cock that follows feels like it lights your nerves on fire.
overstimulated, walking a scary line of pleasure that nearly hurts- and he knows it. gives you the grace of popping strong hips down in large arching sweeps in, already close, already ready to give his cum to you.
it takes a few thrusts before he can’t anymore, finally meeting you close and settling in deep. cock twitching inside while it swells and blooms, spurting thick, creamy ropes.
eyes lidded before they close momentarily, bokuto nearly whines.
you’re so good to him, settle with no complaint, instantly reaching while the tugging of his balls lessen, giving you less with every spurt- ensuring it all starts forming a sticky and pearly ring of white around the base of him, lewd and sticky; squelching loudly while he shifts to reach for you once more- turning back into that sweet man who held you with soft hands earlier.
“princess.” bokuto mumbles, trying to keep your hazy eyes on him- fucked so good you could melt into the cum soaked bed.
“mm?”
“was it enough?” he questions, wondering if it satiated the request from earlier- wondering if it hurt enough.
and you nod, bottom lip trembling in too much emotion flooding through your body- tears rolling down your cheeks while you sniffle, wondering how you landed such a strong man. knowing his hands have put men on the floor now rub soothing circles, that now reach up to rub the tears from under your eyes.
“don’t cry baby, i’ll be gentle next time.” he pouts, thinking your tears come from it being too much, not from the throbbing love you feel for him.
“no.” you respond shakily- reaching for his big sweaty body.
“it was good, felt good- you’re just so sweet.” pretty hands reach for him and he can’t deny you.
pressing some of his weight down onto you- cupping your waist in still bruised hands.
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wxnheart · 9 months
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐: 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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the unexpected part two to this; inspired by this wonderfully sensual gifset.
Boxer!Miguel who always managed to keep his feelings in check despite the obvious tension between you two. It was nothing to run himself ragged by training if it meant focusing on something else other than how soft your skin looked or how kissable your lips were.
Boxer!Miguel whose momentum is always lost when he's around you. Under different circumstances, he'd be pissed that his routine is thrown off but with you, shit... with you...
Boxer!Miguel who has to inwardly groan every time you touch him. It's innocent, so, so innocent the way you think you're helping him but the way his mind is going, it could be so much more. Your hands feel good massaging the tense muscles in his shoulders. If only he could feel the warmth of your body pressed against him. If only he know how much you wanted to feel his warmth, too...
Boxer!Miguel who grows tired of the awkward silences, the stilted touches, and your longing glances. He makes a promise to himself that he'll tell you how he feels. He also promised that he'd tell you about 15 times before this, too, so what was different now?
Boxer!Miguel who trained his ass off for this particular bout and you've been his loudest fan and biggest supporter the entire time. It's the final moments before showtime and you're giving him words of encouragement. Well, you were giving him words of encouragement before your hormones got the best of you and you planted a big one right on his cheek. For, um... for good luck. Yeah... good luck.
Boxer!Miguel who loses momentum yet again. You two just stare at each other in stunned silence before you make a hasty retreat. Or, er, as hasty as it could possibly be. You ignore his stare burning holes in your retreating form. And poor Miguel, facepalming (as much as he could with these fucking gloves on), inwardly groaning, and just his damn luck. Your lips felt as kissable as they looked.
Boxer!Miguel who manages to just barely win and when he closes his eyes, feels the rush of victory and adrenaline, amidst the cacophony of cheers, he hears it, your voice, louder than ever and yeah, he's gonna tell you tonight.
And sweatiness be damned, after the majority of the hoopla has died down you practically jump into his arms in a rush of excitement. It's the best damn clinch Miguel's ever been in.
Boxer!Miguel who, after finally getting cleaned up, corners you to finish what you started. Intense doesn't even begin to describe the way he's staring at you. Thought it was funny to throw him off the way you've been doing, huh?
Boxer!Miguel who settles the score and takes you by surprise; words can't express the feeling and he isn't even sure it'll hold the same weight his kiss does. And he's right. He's been right the entire damn time. Your skin is as soft as it looked.
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wxnheart · 8 months
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞? 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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Part 1 | Part 2
Miguel prides himself on his consistency. He prides himself on having and maintaining a daily routine. If it were up to you, however, the majority of that would've went out the window.
And yeah, it feels fucking amazing to wake up to you by his side in bed. Until he actually has to get up to do his morning workout, that is, because it never fails that as soon as that alarm goes off and he moves, you're practically holding on to him because you don't want to lose your human pillow. You're cute when you complain half-sleepily. You've also threatened to sleep on top of him if it meant him staying in bed. ("Noooo. Don't goooooooo...") It doesn't last long because you fall back asleep just as quickly as you wake up.
You've also taken to wearing some of his old hoodies that he'll train in because why not? They're comfortable and they remind you of him when you two are away. He doesn't mind having to buy new ones. And then you take those, too. Lmao.
And before you know it, you're usually waking up to the sounds of the shower running. The majority of the time, you join him. Other times, you're just busy admiring the view. And what a view it is.
Speaking of the view, you suggested you two do Yoga once during his rest day. You were bullshitting but he took you up on that offer. After some convincing. It was really an excuse on your end to get a glimpse of those glorious thigh and leg muscles and to see him in Downward Dog. Now you two have an inside joke about it. Well, you do. Miguel just groans and facepalms.
Nutrition—he sticks to his eating routine. It's admirable. He has also been persuaded on occasion to indulge in the sinful goodness of your comfort foods. That, too, is admirable. He knows he'll pay for it later but fuck it, huh? Welcome to the Dark Side, Miguel.
To your credit, you tried a Day in the Life of a Professional Boxer, and holy shit, you're not about that life. Makes you admire Miguel even more.
He also found out that his name in your phone is Miggy Stardust. Corny as shit but cute nonetheless. And then you surprised him with a custom bomber jacket with Miggy Stardust on it and... oh, you got the spirit. And then you wore it once at one of his matches and oh, shit. It's the thought that counts.
And yeah, he wouldn't have you any other way, even if you do try your damndest to keep him in bed and disrupt his routine.
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wxnheart · 8 months
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【Marvel】
Magic Word (NSFW) - Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Untitled - Yandere!Spot x Reader
Polar Opposites - Miguel x F!Black Reader
Into the Boxerverse AU - Boxer!Miguel x Reader
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
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introloves · 3 years
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@virgoamajiki: hhnngggg no thoughts just boxer!bokuto fucking you senseless after seeing the other boxer he was supposed to fight that night flirting w/ u just to rile him up and throw him off his game.
— soft dom! bokuto + boxer! bokuto + mentions of harassment in the beginning + overstimulation / dumbification + size kink + comfort + praise + breath play + squirting + fluffy end + bokuto calls reader ‘puppy’ + f! reader
— word count; approx 2.6k
— part of my boxerverse! bokuto: one shot no. 1
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he can’t blink back the images of you during the fight. the near deafening roars of his name all fadded into nothingness as he stalked towards his opponent- bokuto was dead set on putting him down.
the prick had really managed to get under his skin at the weigh in, picking you out- pointing directly at you and asking why you didn’t hop on over, he said you’d be better taken care of.
you’d sat there, wide eyed, clearly scared and taken back by his words. you only spared him a glance. instead turning with wide eyes at your boyfriend, now scared for the other man. frantic eyes shot up to look for his own- it was clear what you wanted, you looked scared and your face held a look that said;
“bo, please don’t.”
and usually, that look would disarm him completely- but not now- not now when he can see the way your eyes watered and lips trembled at the words.
he is sorry for not looking at you right away, sorry for not giving you the comfort you need-
but he’s not sorry for lunging over to the other side, barreling straight past staff that looked minuscule compared to his towering form. microphones clashing onto the floor with clear intent.
it’s complete chaos, bokutos manager grabbing him, holding him back down onto the seat, hissing in his ear that he’ll have a chance to go at him, “in the ring.”
you sit, dazed by the clamor and rapid snapping of cameras that bathe the two of you like a shower of pure light.
but he sits back down, hand clamped over your thigh, squeezing you, using your body as a stress ball. he can’t even look at his opponent, amber eyes focused on nothing more than your trembling knee- koutarou truly thinks he might kill him.
-
when he finally enters the ring, it doesn’t take long for the bastard to get dropped. its almost comical how short the match ends— usually bokuto would have put a little more show into it, letting him take a couple of hits before handling it, dragging it out to fluff his ego, showing everyone that he was the king, but not now.
as soon as his opponent is down, spread out on the white canvas- he steps once towards the body— pushed away by the referee in panic with the way he looms over him a little longer than necessary. the referee looking over at his teams side, shoving him back into his corner before calling the end of the match.
he lets his body get shoved into his corner, scoffing at the way the man lays there... pathetic.
bokuto doesnt even react to the roars of the crowd- walks past his team and into the locker rooms.
it feels like it takes forever to get back to you, normally you’d be at the ringside, but for this round he didn’t want you there and you not being able to do that, especially for a fight like this has you on edge. waiting for your koutarou to come home. the tension is almost suffocating when you finally hear the door slam closed.
you know hes not mad at you, thats not who the shake of the house is directed at. bokuto has always been a gentle giant with you— an overexcited, loving, and sweet giant.
he walks straight into the room, tugging off his shirt, shorts, leaving a trail of clothes as he makes a beeline right to you. there’s a deep want, need to have you, it feels like someone’s pressing down onto his chest- a tight ball of... anger and fear swirling around there.
it softens when he see’s you though, cuddled up on the bed, eyes lidded as you smile at him, welcoming him home. when he touches you, your body still warm from an almost sleep, he feels the sharp edges of anger melt away. there was no need for him to angry or scared at the words his opponent had thrown your way- he wasn’t the one about to fuck you to sleep... but the small tingle of fear and anger didn’t leave him completely.
“baby.” you murmur, hands outstretched to bring him into your space, the big body of his instantly melting down to your form, elbows perched on either side of your head- trapping you completely in.
“saw you drop him... first round.” voice heavy with lust and want, he was so strong and powerful and all yours. legs drop down onto the bed to let him in, ready for him, waiting for him.
“yeah, had to.” bokuto responds back, whispering it against your lips before he kisses you, licking into your mouth with heavy strokes of his tongue, all but tracing his name onto the front of your teeth.
“he scared you didnt he?” he growls, hissing at the way your heat wiggles to find his cock. bokuto shifts to hold the weight of his upper body on just one arm, slipping a hand down to tug your bottoms off.
“mhm.” you whimper back, gripping onto his shoulders, body jerking with every pull.
“did you see how i took care of him, pretty thing?” kou spits, pulse quickening at the wetness that meets his knuckle, trailing the back of his hand up your cunt before slipping a finger against your folds, splitting them open to briefly glance at your exposed pussy.
“fuck- course you did, thats why you’re so wet, huh?”
you cant really say anything, because he was right- seeing him knock that man out with one punch, straight to the jaw, sent heat flooding through your veins, proof of it formed in the shape of pure slick painting the outside of your cunt, between your thighs, pooling in your bottoms. its kinda silly, he knows what he does to you, knows you love watching him in his element, eyes hardened and face laxed in total concentration and an air of cockiness to him when he steps in the ring. he knows you love it, cause you’re always drooling into your panties when he comes to you after a match.
“real wet.” he marvels once more, sinking a finger all the way down to the knuckle and all you can do in response is open your legs wider, tilting yourself up to show him how ready and receptive you were for him.
“good girl.” his voice is tight and low- something like a growl with the way you move against his one finger. its enough to snap the string of self restraint he had, pure unbridled energy bouncing off him as he departs from you- just for a second, to kiss you harshly.
its a mix of tongue, spit, and teeth- strings of your passion still hanging from between the two as he leans back to look at your form, wiggling around in need of him.
its okay, he thinks, he’ll give you what you want.
and he does, doesn’t take long for him to grab the base of his thick and heavy cock, letting it slap against your cunt a couple times before squeezing the head of him inside- nice and snug. it makes him lightheaded, he cant think of anything but you- a fever crawls up his sculpted back, a need to just sink in and fuck you silly, but he wants something from you first.
“who do you belong to puppy?” he inquires gruffly, not moving an inch, watching the way you blink up at him through tears.
“w-what?” its sudden, your sweet and kind bo almost never talked like this in bed, it makes you salivate, a heat flushing down your back.
“c’mon- tell me who you belong to.” he hisses once more, splaying one of his big, strong, veiny hands across your chest, pushing down- locking you against the bed.
he still hasn’t moved, and the fluttering of your pussy down on the head of his dick makes him grunt- muscled stomach tensing with each one. he comes back to you- a little softer in the way his words sound, carrying that sweetness you know and love.
“please, tell me you’re mine.” he whispers, moving the hand that had you pinned down up towards your neck, rough callouses rubbing against the soft and sensitive skin there.
its a juxtaposition of kind, vulnerable words mixing in with the harsher movements of his strong hand curling against your airway, frantic in the need to hear it from you.
you know what he needs, and you’re more than happy to comply, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better. your hand moves up to wrap around his wrist, pulling him in close, eyes burning with hot tears forming there at the lack of blood- but you continue, till the next words are all but hissed, high and tight.
“yours, i’m all yours koutarou, my king.”
there isn’t anything he could have done to prepare for that, he stutters, chokes on the lust heavy in his chest, he feels like there’s molten want dripping down his veins- swirling into a tight ball at the pit of his stomach.
all he can do is rear back, hips lifting off you, popping the head of him out and you nearly whine, nearly ask him whats wrong before he slams down in one hard and desperate stroke, catching the skin of your cunt harshly, but its okay- there would have been no way you’d survive in a relationship with him if you didn’t like a little pain.
when his hips make contact with your cunt, puffy lips giving him cushion- he grinds down, smashing your clit down against his pubes.
eyes shut tight, a choked sob tumbling from your lips in response, head teetering back onto the bed.
“koutarou! fuck! fuck!” words high and staccato-ed are echoed out into the room, he feeds off the broken syllables of his name tumbling from your lips.
he looks at you while he squeezes his fingers against the thrum of your quickened pulse underneath his hand- watching your eyes roll back, the whites of them on clear display as lips part, a silent scream painted onto the moments of your face-
the bed groans, creaks with each crushing thrust he gives you, drilling you down into the bed.
“keep saying my name puppy, keep saying it.” he grunts looking at you with a feverish and concentrated gaze, affected in how well you stroke his ego, chest feeling incredibly full, the prickle of his orgasm starts, but there was /no/ way he’d come before his baby.
the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat sweeps down your arching body until his thumb finds your twitching clit- immediately pressing down on it with enough force that his thumb turns white. it rips a scream straight from the center of your chest and your body starts seizing up.
he huffs out a laugh when he sees the way your hips cant up off the bedding- it nearly pushes him back, but he stays unwavering, following the movement of your spasming body.
“koutarou!” his name leaves your mouth in the form of a wail while he batters your cunt, you don’t even know you’re moving the way you are- hands falling to rest pitifully against your head.
“ah- that’s my girl.” bokuto beams, seeing the splash of your cum arch all the way up to hit his tummy- abs glistening with every contraction as his hips drill into you- he gives in, taking the thumb that had been squeezing your clit down onto your body and sticking it into his mouth, watching you with lidded eyes as he licks the cum off his hand, all while keeping your neck pinned down and chasing the frantic movements of your hips.
there’s no immediate reaction from you when he picks up your legs- weak with the strain you’ve put them under, and folds them up to your chest.
the only thing you do is intake a lungful of air, dazed eyes looking up at him- not knowing how he got so close to your face.
it’s the first slap of his heavy balls against your ass that makes you come back from it all-
“p-please!!” you cry, eyes wide. the force of him still pistoning into you makes your body bounce off the shaking bed, and thanks to the squirting orgasm he fucked out of you with his thick cock- building a near searing sensitivity into the walls of your cunt and clit, you cum once more. it’s the final break into a headspace that has you twitch and flail your legs, wiggling against the hold of his arms.
“yeah- good girl.” bokuto grits out, a bead of sweat drips off his face onto your own, and thankfully- it’s what he needs to cum. his eyes are frantic as he watches you- swollen lips, face turned relaxed as you squeeze down around him, looking like the image of fucked stupid.
with the a final resounding smack of his hips into you, his cock jumps, swelling, growing snug inside you before he dumps an almost obscene amount of cum into you.
small twitches of your body lets him know you feel it, his head falls down to land against your chest, keeping you folded as he grits his teeth.
it takes rapid, hard blinks of his eyes to not let tears fall down onto his face. he’s shaky as he finally sits back up, making sure to bring your thighs down gently.
“kou-“ you choke out, looking for him-
he responds by finding your limp hands, still lying up by your head- slotting thick fingers and broad hands into your own.
“‘m right here.” koutarou nearly wheezes out, still reeling from an orgasm that he can still feel.
“that felt good.” your voice is airy and sweet- pitchy and laced with love.
for the second time that night- he laughs, shaking his head while he slips his softened cock out of you.
he picks you up, scooping your trembling form into swollen muscles- keeping you nice and tight against a hard torso.
“you make me feel good.” he whispers into your hair, not caring about the trail of hot cum that leaks out of your fucked out cunt, trails of it running down his leg while he places you on his chest, laying the both of you down.
holding you tight like this, sweat mingling together, residue of cum and tears painting eachothers bodies- he knows there was nothing he should have ever been worried about.
he didn’t have to worry about protecting or loosing you- bodies intertwined, locked into one another proved that you took care of him, gentle hands tracing your name onto the skin of his chest.
“i’m all yours koutarou.” you whisper, nearly falling into the heaviness of sleep.
he once again blinks back the need to cry- he could take all the punches in the world, not even blink, but he was so weak for you.
“yeah... i’m all yours too.” his voice is tender, shaky with emotion, arms squeezing around you tight.
he really was.
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introloves · 3 years
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anon: okay so i just went through (the entirety) of your bokuto tag and lemme just say, boxer! bokuto??? yeah top tier. you just KNOW that every time he wins he wraps that medal round your neck and makes you watch in the mirror as he uses it to choke you and keep your head up and eyes on his while he absolutely rails you. shit after fights you’d look just as bruised as him.
— boxer! bokuto + marking + choking + pain + possessive! bokuto + overstimulation + size kink + bokuto calls reader ‘puppy’ + cream pie + f! reader
— word count; 2k
— boxerverse! bokuto: one shot no. 2
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he’s trembling, high strung with the adrenaline that still hasn’t left him. it’s funny seeing him whine for your attention, someone so big and muscular like him looking absolutely destroyed when you give him a stern look against his kisses.
it’s so very apparent in the way he handles you that hes looking at you to help him come down.
“bo, calm down.” you pant, trying to push his hands away, its a futile attempt to keep his wandering fingers away from your pants. its like he’s magnetized to the waistband of them, digits twitch when you slap them down.
he’s big, strong, a finely tuned machine built for taking hits and giving them back like a bullet but your rejection makes him pout.
there’s a twist of pain in your chest when he gets like this, but he needs to rest.
despite everything, he acts like its just been another day, but it hasn’t even been two hours since his last fight. theres a bruise painting his lip, another one against his brow, red splotches litter his sides and stomach but he shakes your prying hands off thick wrists, fingers hooking into your waistband and pulling them down to your thighs. he looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. waiting for the okay he knows is inevitably going to come.
“fine, but if i see you wince, we’re stopping.” you sigh, smiling at the absolute beam of teeth and curled lips he gives you.
he’s so fast, peeling off every bit of clothing you had worn tonight. he had to have you, needed it like he needed that win.
a win that he already has, now he just needs you.
you cant deny that his excitement isn’t making you wet, he’s like a god above you, vying for your attention and body. he was truly glorious tonight, muscles taut and coiled as he bounced along the white canvas. biceps curled and ready for his opening to land one of his signature right hooks. he takes every hit against his body like it’s nothing, completely unfazed by his opponent. at one point during the match he taunted them, dropping his arms and baring his teeth, just waiting for the fight to truly get good. it makes you squirm, he could be so intimidating, watching like a predator for any opening, any hole in the opponents defense.
your body flushes in memory of watching him land that final hit, he sees the way your thighs squish together. groaning at the thought that your body was responding to his advances, surely knowing by memory how good he fucks you.
your bo always looks so strong and powerful. no matter where he is, whether he’s fighting or when he’s trapping you against those strong arms.
it makes you sigh at the pure determination he’s dripping in, rolling your eyes as he gives you a once over, wiggling his eyebrows at you, torso stretching to reach something from the bedside table, canines flashing as he shows you his newest trophy. its a devious look, proud eyes glinting down at you.
you feel that you can read his mind, about to tell him that, no you won’t fuck him while he’s wearing it, but he lowers it over your head, giving you a bigger smile as the heavy and cold metal lands right between your tits.
“that looks real good on you.” he finally says, abs contracting with the pangs of arousal crawling up his neck. he flinches just a bit at the soreness there, he’s a little more beat up than usual, but hides it well. if there’s anything he needs other than rest, its to fuck you dizzy.
he thinks he might be a total meat head with just how much he likes the image of you wearing something he worked so hard to win, a primal heat licking at the arousal also flaring inside him. you’re really truly his, bokuto can see it in your eyes, regarding him like hes strung the moon up in the sky.
you belong to him, just as he does you. just like that shiny medal you’re wearing.
the bed creaks under his weight when he leans down to kiss you, hand grabbing your face, keeping you right where he wants you. tongue immediately slipping past your lips, pulling a cute whine. he’s sloppy with it, teeth bumping against your own, spit trailing down the corner of both your mouths. when he pulls away, your eyes cross to watch the string of spit connecting the both of you.
he swipes his tongue out and catches it, mumbling something when he sees you reach for him.
“sit back.” you realize he says a little late, snapped out of the haze by the gentle tap of his index finger against your cheek.
koutarou makes a show to peel the rash guard he was wearing under his shorts off. his creamy, muscled thighs finally grace your vision. it makes your body temperature rise several degrees at once, the hot flash only encouraged when you see his dick lying pretty against his thigh. you reach for him, but the advance is stopped by his hands, he doesnt say anything but grips your wrists a little tighter.
your gaze moves from his purpled knuckles up to his eyes, the amber there looks just a tad bit cooler and you immediately know it’s going to be a bad day for you tomorrow.
“want you on your tummy.” bokuto states, and you listen.
waiting for his hands to grip your hips, but he lags just a little. turning your head to look at him you ask if everything’s okay,
“you remember our safe word?” he inquires, and you nod, blanching just a little. his words send a prickle of fear down your spine, you suddenly feel very vulnerable and exposed.
“well, what is it?”
bokutos hand comes down to grip your shoulder, huffing against your ear. theres a small pull there, bringing your shoulders back to meet him halfway.
“j-juice.”
he’s right there, waiting for the last syllable to leave your lips, poking the head of his dick against your cunt. it leaves you breathless, smooth, velvet skin leaving a wet trail of precum right on your clit.
it makes you exhale out a high pitched keen, unable to stop it from tumbling out a little louder than expected.
the whine has him purring, humming out a, “good girl.”
there’s nothing in the world that you can compare the way he splits you open. the first stroke is always careful, makes sure youre nice and relaxed, wet enough to take him. you always are of course, how could you not with the way he holds you, pulling you back by your shoulders, making your back bend as much as it can, the twist of your body like that makes for a real tight squeeze, feels like the already limited room inside your cunt is cut back to an absolute zero.
it should hurt, but you’ve taken him enough that hes practically carved the shape of him into your pussy.
he has you nice and compliant under his hands, head thrown back to leave the most fucked out sounds of pure ecstasy rattle through your lungs and into the room.
he can feel the chemistry, something akin to electricity, between the two of you. if he could form into words what its like when you lean agasint him, completely trusting him to take care of you, to make you feel good, he’d fill a book up- and pocket it to reread over and over.
bokuto releases you, letting your shoulders fall forward gently before reaching around and pulling the, now, warm metal from between your body and the bed.
it catches you by surprise when he gives it a tug, the silk cutting into your prominent veins, making you go weak and dizzy.
if you couldn’t think or talk before he was doing this, you definitely weren’t going to be able to while he was.
your hands find the pillows above you for leverage, biting down onto your lip when he begins a brutal pace against your hips. hes pinned you down onto the bed with his mass, not even letting you arch your hips to give him better access to your cunt.
“ghh, kou- kou feels good.” you cry, taking an index finger into your mouth to bite, theres not a spot on your body where you dont feel him, so big above you, you can feel the press of his dick in your throat.
“i know it does puppy.” he grits out, still biting back the pain that each brutal contact against your body brings him. hes got the stamina, the sweat hes broken out thus far isnt too bad, but the position and the way hes taking you- hand still holding onto that precious medal- is taking a toll on him.
he knows he needs to make you cum fast.
and knowing his sweet baby, the way to do that is to rough you up just a bit. it’s real endearing.
the silk burns just a little when he shifts behind you, making sure to keep a good grip on it- you dont connect the dots of what hes preparing to do, not until he pulls back.
you’re mid scream before he cuts you off, tears forming in your eyes against the rasp and wheeze of your breathing. the tension around your throat isnt forceful enough to cut your oxygen off completely, it just leaves you wheezing and gives you a nice haze to your vision.
you’ve tensed up completely, knees locking, hands gripping the pillow above you for dear life.
the reaction from you makes him shake, you can feel the stutter of his hips, hearing the high whine leave his throat, he powers through it. he clashes his teeth together and snarls, blinking back stars when he speeds up.
“c’mon, cum. cum for me, puppy.” bokuto grunts.
its not like you to not listen, as soon as his words leave his mouth, you’re closing your eyes.
you’ve gone limp for a second, and bokuto truly fears that hes overdone it, he drops the grip he has on his trophy, about to stop everything, but then your tremors start.
your legs, still pinned down between his own, shake. he sees your cute little hands slap the pillow and swallows deeply. you’re silent- but he can hear the echoes of moans that want to leave your throat thanks to your open mouth and head that’s thrown back. it takes you two seconds before you seem to flicker back to life,
“ghhhh, hhhh! koutarou, kou!” his name is the first coherent thing that leaves your mouth, and he swears there’s nothing better. he cant compare you to winning a match, knocking out his opponent in a KO- because seeing you like this, hearing you scream his name like that would win every time.
he’d like to comment on how eagerly you’re milking his cock, but the pulsing of your cunt around his fat, big dick does him in.
there’s no time to pull out, wasn’t planning on it anyways, but the squeezing of you againts him, leaking your cum down to the base of him, wetting his pubes with you, also leaves no room for it.
it’s obscene, the squelching sounds of his pistoning, cumming cock, creaming your insides white, all the while pushing it out of your cunt with every thrust.
it splatters against your ass and his thighs, white globs of it stick against the two of you while he rides out the throbbing. there’s nothing more satisfying than filling you up, a deep tingle nipping at the base of his skull when he thinks about his cum kept warm in your cunt.
this is what finally tires him out. the tremor and twitching of his strong arms visible when he reaches down and pulls his limp dick from you, he saves you the pain of his weight crushing against your already fragile body by plopping down beside you, you jump up on the bed with the force of his weight collapsing beside you.
the sticky heat is no match for his eagerness to hold you after it all. you slot against his front easily, almost completely dwarfed by his frame.
“‘re you proud ‘fme.” he slurs against your neck, trapping his thigh between your legs. he shivers when he feels the mess of his own cum smear absolutely everywhere.
your hand comes down to rest over his arms, protectively secured around your torso.
“always. i love you so much.” you whisper back, voice just a tiny bit raspy and sore.
“mm, loveyoumore.”
he’s out before you can count to ten, hearing you say that puts a smile on his face while his breathing evens out behind you.
you take the lightest of touches to the bruises on his knuckles, your koutarou truly was something else. while he sought out your validation, you basked in the glory and security of someone as grand as him holding you tight.
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introloves · 3 years
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now- do i make this boxerverse bokuto call himself daddy or...
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introloves · 3 years
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why not make boxerverse bokuto call himself king because he rules the ring 🤩🤩🤩
NOWWWWW HOLD ON— YOURE ON TO SOMETHINGGGG
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